Earlier this November, Penn made headlines with the installation of a monumental sculpture by acclaimed artist Simone Leigh at the campus corner of 34th and Walnut Streets. The piece, titled “Brick House,” stands 16 feet high and is cast in bronze. Depicting a Black woman’s head atop a round structure, Brick House explores the complicated history of Black female identity in America while elegantly fusing human form with architectural elements. The newly debuted work is part of Leigh’s series called Anatomy of Architecture, in which, as the name suggests, the ideas of body and architecture come together to further engage with ideas and objects of Black femininity, reflecting the artist’s interest in the African diaspora’s historical and contemporary realities.
There is much to discuss about Leigh’s œuvre and Anatomy of Architecture specifically, but more than the work itself, the presentation and context of the work now on Penn’s campus was what sparked the most discussion. Speaking to Penn Today, President Amy Gutmann stated that the installation of Brick House neatly aligns with Penn’s commitment to combatting racism and racial discrimination in Philadelphia and beyond “as we redouble our collective efforts to confront issues of racial justice.”
Many also noticed the timely installation of the sculpture as the University was bolstering their efforts to nurture discussions of racial injustice during the University’s Year of Civic Engagement, regarding the move as simply paying lip service rather than implementing an actual change. A fair share of Penn’s student body and many student organizations have argued that Penn could be doing much more for the underrepresented communities in Philadelphia’s surrounding neighborhoods, so the recent installation highlighted by the University was deemed an incentive of “performative activism” by many. However, the meaning of the word “performative” is entirely subjective, especially when it comes to taking genuine, impactful action to advocate for change in our communities.
Nevertheless, the Penn community ended up discussing the installation of a work about Black American identity, and Penn’s role in taking sincere action to combat issues of racial inequality, much more than discussing the work itself. This is not anything new. When it comes to art that captures your attention, makes an important statement, and resonates with you, the space and context in which the work is exhibited takes on more significance. When works are exhibited in public spaces, the boundaries between the audience and the work are blurred, and we think about the art in relation to its presentation.
Especially amid the COVID-19 pandemic that greatly impacted our communities, it is now more important than ever for works of art that challenge our understanding of our society, bring attention to critical issues, or advocate for change, to be presented outside a well-lit gallery space. 2020 showed us new, creative ways of presenting art and for using a platform of artistic narrative to express a political statement.
When works are exhibited in public spaces, the boundaries between the audience and the work are blurred, and we think about the art in relation to its presentation.
This relationship between the message and the context of art is a critical and powerful one. The 2016-2020 US Presidency, racial injustice in many parts of the world, international responses to refugee crises, and many other fiercely-discussed political issues sparked great response in the world of artivism — a portmanteau of art and activism first used academically in an article from 2008 on Chicanx artivism).
Most of these great works were not necessarily presented in a well-lit gallery space, but outside the designated spot for art, raising questions about the purpose and the place in society that political or non-political art “deserves.”
The role of the artist as an activist is a very powerful and sometimes a necessary role for many, as the goals of contemporary art and its often conceptual nature can sometimes turn the audience to a puzzling discussion of the validity of contemporary art. This connection of art and activism is a nuanced one that is not always so easy to execute. I have gathered some of my favorite works of political art outside the usual gallery space where art and activism merge and result in something powerful.
Medusa across the courthouse
Medusa With The Head of Perseus, 2008-2020
Installed at Collect Pond Park.
Courtesy of MWTH Project.
This October, the sculpture that embodies a reimagined vision of the Medusa myth was installed in New York City. Named Medusa with the Head of Perseus, the sculpture was created by Luciano Garbati in 2008. The seven-foot sculpture of Medusa overturns the ancient Greek myth and depicts the Gorgon as an avenging victim of sexual assault that hunted down and decapitated Perseus. And today, it’s situated right across the street from the Manhattan Supreme Court where Harvey Weinstein stood trial.
The sculpture was created as an homage to female empowerment and the #MeToo movement of holding assaulters accountable, and the installation of the work in the NYC park, facing the courthouse also follows that message that the work intends to communicate. However, many have questioned whether this statue of a naked, idealised woman created by a male artist actually embodies the message of the #MeToo movement, or why Medusa is not holding the head of her rapist instead of Perseus.
Ai Weiwei’s refugee life jackets in Berlin
This is my favorite example of political art with a great message but a not-so-great (or accurate) execution. Ai Weiwei, an artist mostly known for his activism and his unapologetic and outspoken stance, made headlines in 2016 with an installation in which he attached 14,000 orange life jackets used by refugees to the columns of the Berlin Konzerthaus. Ai collected the jackets from his trip to the Greek island of Lesbos where Syrian refugees fleeing from their homeland across the Aegean Sea were on their way to Europe. The installation sparked a great amount of discussion surrounding the refugee crisis, but again, context matters. And the context Ai chose for his life jackets was certainly perplexing for at least some part of his audience.
The installation, intended to be a critique about governmental impact on the refugee crisis and the discussion around the value we attach to human life, is located in the center of a symbol of Germany’s embracement of refugees since the 17th century, and Ai’s choice of staging an installation of this nature in Germany has been criticized by many, raising the question of why the piece wasn’t staged in countries that have taken in fewer or no refugees.
Abuse of power comes as no surprise
Installation artist Jenny Holzer became known in New York City in 1977 with her series of anonymously posted sheets of text known named Truisms where she essentially used words as the primary medium of her art that she presented to a large and broad audience, capturing the viewer’s attention with this context. This objective is most evident in her project in which she used LED lights in public spaces such as Times Square and expressed that “ABUSE OF POWER COMES AS NO SURPRISE.”
The Hope Issue
Kerry James Marshall’s body of work is all about painting it black. His mission is to make Black people and Black culture more visible in the art world, hoping that his works find their way into museums in the future so they can be exhibited alongside works of art that often lack Black presence.
Artists such as Salvador Dalí and Giorgio de Chirico made cover art for Vogue in the past, and for the magazine’s September 2020 issue named “The Hope Issue,” Vogue reached out to Marshall and commissioned a painting of a Black woman in an Off-White evening dress (the artist was required to choose a dress by one of four Vogue-selected designers for their subject to wear) in front of a penthouse terrace.
We are not used to seeing Marshall’s paintings where he uses three different shades—carbon black, iron oxide black, and ivory black to paint his vision of “unapologetically Black” figures onto the canvas. Yet presenting this beautiful painting of hope outside the gallery and distributing it via the rather unorthodox medium of a Vogue cover definitely brings home the point of how important the presentation is when it comes to art that makes a statement.
Museums and galleries have always been catalyzers by bringing people closer to art. They can be more relevant than ever in engaging with political art amid the pandemic through innovations in how they exhibit artwork — in order to connect their audiences to thought-provoking works in meaningful, exciting ways. For more on the puzzling question of the role of museums as activists in the contextual, democratized, online world of political art, you can also read “Museums and Activism: Why We Need the Museum Now More than Ever” by Ashley Sniffen.
Looking outside the gallery, we should recognize and appreciate the importance of not only the political statement of the artwork, but also the how, when, where, and why of the artwork that is bound to its contextual nature as the artist that embodies the role of the activist challenges ideas, institutions, and the status-quo in new, exciting ways.
